Quandaries and Queries
by Picole605
Summary: Edward Nygma is a smart, and often underestimated man currently working for the GCPD. He is dedicated to working and helping to solve crimes but he is slowly noticing how things are starting to change.
1. Chapter 1

It was another gloomy day as rain poured down on the sidewalk outside of the Gotham City Police Department. Despite the weather, Edward Nygma was cheerful upon meeting the new detective. It had been a while since there was someone around that would humor him or laugh at his jokes. Jim Gordon had guessed his riddle right away, which had both surprised and delighted him.

He looked down at the bullets in his hand. The two most important pieces of evidence in the Wayne murders and they were a dead end. The city had been buzzing with the news of Thomas and Martha Wayne's death and he had been eager to help in this case. It was a huge disappointment when they learned that the gun the bullet came from was unknown.

"Ed, could you come here a second?" captain Essen asked.

"Yes Ma'am."

He stepped inside her office and sat down, shifting awkwardly. She sat down across from him and considered her words. "May I ask what this is about?" He fidgeted with his hands.

"I've heard that you've been performing autopsies. Is this true?"

"Yes. Cause of death has always interested me and I have a sharp eye for detail."

"I won't deny that you have good observation skills." She countered, "But performing an autopsy is not your responsibility. You don't have the authorization."

He sighed and nodded. He felt that he needed to continue secretly performing the autopsies. The current medical examiner didn't seem to care about his job. He was often slow at making his determinations and missed crucial information. Not to mention how he was willing to falsify reports that a death that was clearly a murder was a suicide or other accident if the mayor or commissioner demanded.

"You're doing good work here Ed. I can see that you're eager to advance but forensics is your department. Understand?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Thank you. That's all I have to say."

He closed the door behind him and gritted his teeth. Every day he noticed things that no one else did. He put his entire being into the work that he did and did so without much recognition from his peers. It hurt him and frustrated him that he was dismissed so easily. Upon returning to his desk, he noticed the black moleskin notebook that he always carried around. He quickly picked it up and tucked it into his shirt pocket. Inside that journal were the details to all the major crimes committed. At least, what they knew about them and the conclusions he had drawn. Before he went home at the end of the day, he would often wander the streets and go to a random crime scene, looking for more clues, riddles, or even a mistake. He was certain that there had to be faults somewhere.

He decided that he would go back to the alley where Mr. and Mrs. Wayne were murdered. He gathered the records off his desk and ran his fingers through his hair. He hoped that he looked nice enough in case he ran into her. He slowly opened the door to the records office and saw her filing away in the cluttered room. He cleared his throat, making her turn towards him.

"Hello Mr. Nygma." She sighed.

"Miss Kringle. How are you today?"

"I'm just fine. Are you finished with those files?"

She reached for the folders he was holding. He handed them over and stared at her, smiling cheerfully. "Ahem, is that all then?"

"I was wondering what you thought about criminal intent. I just find it so-"

"I'm just here to file and keep records, not solve any cases, Mr. Nygma. That is not my job."

"Certainly, but I was wondering if later you'd like to accompany me to-"

"I am very busy with work and I already have plans all week." She stated as she turned back to the file cabinets. "Thank you. If that's all..."

"Yes, of course. Have a nice evening."

Quietly, he shut the door behind him. He was so perplexed by Kristen Kringle. When she had first encountered him, she was so sweet and would laugh at his jokes often. However, now she seems to be annoyed by him and never has time for his riddles or comments.

"Sorry to be a bother..." He mumbled.

###

Amid the busy street near the theater, he walked steadily and looked high and low. There was enough light to make note of the things he saw. He flipped open his journal to one of the last blank pages. _Time for another one already._

"Hey, watch where you're going!" A gruff man yelled as he shoved past him. He shrugged him off and kept walking. There were so many things about the case that just didn't add up to him.

_Who would know that the Waynes would decide to cross into that specific alley? Maybe he had planned on following them out from that alley but still, would he have murdered them right then and there on the street?_ He wondered.

Once in the alley, he started sketching the scene. Garbage cans lined the sides and there were multiple fire escapes leading down from the higher floors of the buildings. The windows, however, were dark and unfurnished so he doubted that there were any witnesses inside.

With only three pieces of evidence, this would be the hardest case to crack. No fingerprints, an unknown gun, no description. What they did know, the details of the bullet and that the gunman wore shiny shoes, didn't narrow any suspects down. _What do shiny shoes and a six dollar bullet have in common? Cost of course._

This gave him reason to believe the murder was gang related. It was no secret that Don Falcone was getting on in years and his position was greatly sought after by Mooney and Maroni. They would have the most to gain from the Waynes' death and Falcone would have the most to lose. It was difficult to pinpoint the culprit because in Gotham, everything was gang related.

* * *

**Hi there!**

**I'm new to this site and this is my first ever attempt at writing fanficiton. I will try to post about once a week or every two weeks as I get a feel for this storyline. If you liked this and want to talk about it or what an amazing show that Gotham is feel free to send me a message!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Nygma, I need you to look at these files," Bullock said as he dropped folders on the desk.

"Some of the unsolved cases?" Edward opened them and skimmed the reports. Lately there had been some murder cases turning up on the outskirts of town. A man had his throat slit while fishing, and another was stabbed at a bus stop, but these occurrences weren't entirely unusual. "Anything in particular I'm looking for?"

"Yeah, as many similarities as you can find. All of the victims were killed with a sharp object of some sort. Let me or Gordon know what you find."

Nygma nodded and opened the report on the fisherman. The victim was found across from the bay, and his throat was slit from what seemed to be a sharp edge of a bottle. Alone at his desk, he read over the files for a while, trying to connect the dots. After reading all of them, he went back to the fisherman case. _Hmm, found across the bay…the day after Bullock said he and Gordon were investigating a situation at the docks. Maybe this man saw something he shouldn't have._

He knew that there had to be something that was missing there. The docks at the bay were notorious for being busy with gang activity so what were Bullock and Gordon doing there? There hadn't been any recent cases in that area that he was aware of. Not until this one of course. He suddenly remembered that Bullock had been going to Mooney's place more often lately. He stood up and headed over to the records office. At the door, he stopped when he heard Arnold Flass and Ms. Kringle laughing inside. He held his breath and listened quietly.

"Come on, we've been on a few dates already. Stay over at my place this time," Flass teased.

"I can't do that. It's still much too early in this relationship."

"Come on Sweetie…"

Nygma quickly entered the room, his face flushed from what he had heard. "Ms. Kringle, I need to check out some files right away!"

"Oh don't scare me like that! Were you spying?!" she shrieked.

"No, no. I just came to get a few things and didn't hear anything…"

"Just take what you need and go!" she yelled.

Awkwardly, he went to the messy filing cabinets and looked around. The two of them waited in silence as he rifled through drawer after drawer.

_How does she find anything in here? It is atrocious._

"Aha! Found them." He smiled.

"Good, now is that all?" Her green eyes narrowed.

"Yes, sorry. Have a good day, Miss." He shut the door behind him and heard the two of them continue to giggle and banter. He was hurt that she would choose someone like Flass of all people. He didn't respect her nor was he a good man in general.

He slumped back to his desk, sat down and discreetly opened the folder on Fish Mooney. Most of the information they had on her were only bits and pieces. She was well known but nearly untouchable in the crime world with being so close to Don Falcone. In the file, there was just a single picture of her and two men on a busy sidewalk. One was a rather large and intimidating man, and the other was small and seemingly insignificant. The smaller man looked to be about the same age as himself and he was holding Mooney's umbrella as they walked down the street. His nose was pointed and bird-like and his pale skin starkly contrasted with his dark hair. The edges of the photo folded in his hands as he pondered. He had seen this man before but he didn't quite remember where. He needed to find him and try to talk to him.

* * *

He entered Fish Mooney's club that night around seven. People crowded the booths and tables and the bartenders were mixing drinks like crazy. _There must be some new entertainment. Or is it always like this?_ He wondered. It was unlike him to be out at a club rather than at home or a scene and he hoped that he was dressed well enough. He sat down at a booth and watched a young, slender woman sing an airy tune on the stage.

"What can I get for you, sir?" a waiter asked.

"I'll have an Old Fashioned, please," he replied.

The gentle music flowed through the air and made the atmosphere rather pleasant. Despite this place being a gang run club, it was nice. The customers were well dressed and clean. They didn't seem like bad people at all. From the booth next to his, he could hear a man and a lady whispering. He leaned back against the cushioned backing of the booth and tilted his head as inconspicuously as possible. The man was the large one from the photo with Fish Mooney.

"I just want to make sure the job is done!" the woman whispered tersely.

"Shh…Calm down. Gordon seems like he's got a lot to lose if he doesn't follow through. It's done," The man replied.

"Good. Big things are happening and we don't need any loose lips around here."

The waiter brought Nygma his drink and he nodded at him with gratitude. Sipping from the glass, he sat and enjoyed the music. Mooney had to have been running this club to make money. Presumably most of it was going to Don Falcone but she was getting a deal out of it as well. Being close to Carmine Falcone and the power that he had over the city was a long term investment that would pay off once he was out of the picture.

The song finally ended and the audience erupted into applause. He clapped and glanced around the room, but he didn't see the slight, pale man from the picture. _Where is he? And what did they mean by_ _Gordon? Jim Gordon? What was he doing getting involved with Fish Mooney?_ Droplets started forming around the glass as his drink sat. He wasn't a big drinker as he didn't have many reasons to celebrate. He also liked having his mind clear to solve problems. However, tonight was different and he was trying new things lately so he downed the rest of it.

He was enjoying himself, but at the same time he was getting quite uncomfortable and anxious from waiting in a place like this. He was just about to pay when the man and woman got up and started to head out the back. He could see her clearly now. If the picture in the file was correct, it was her; Fish Mooney.

"Butch, where is my new umbrella boy?" she asked.

_New umbrella boy? _Nygma thought. _What is going on here? _Fuzzy thoughts filled his head as he dropped some money on the table and made his way out to the front of the club. Outside, more people were arriving than leaving. He stood in the chilly night air and watched groups as they bustled in. Finally, a taxi pulled up to the curb and he got inside.

"Fremont Avenue, please," he said.

He could hear sirens in the distance as they drove through some less than ideal neighborhoods and he sighed. Gotham had been going downhill for as long as he could remember, but recently he could feel the effects of it more on himself. He thought about Kristen. Just the thought of her name made his heart race, but his mood quickly soured._ As if she would ever give me a chance…_

He wanted to pull out his notebook and start recording what he learned to take his mind off of her, but that would seem too suspicious. He knew that he would have to wait until he got home safe and sound. After a while longer, their surroundings started to seem familiar to him.

"Stop here, please." The cabbie slowed the car to a halt. His apartment was only two streets over.

After paying his fare, he slightly stumbled out of the cab. He really shouldn't have had anything to drink on an empty stomach. This wasn't the nicest part of town, but he felt that he could safely walk around these streets at night compared to other places in Gotham. As he approached his street, he could see lights shining through the windows of his building. He walked through the main foyer and to the elevator. Dim lights lit the well-kept hallways as he passed door after door.

He turned the key to door 401 and was finally inside his little apartment. There was a lacquered dish on the side table by his door that he dropped his keys into. He slipped off his shoes and made his way to a small writing desk in the corner. His head was reeling from what he had overheard at Fish Mooney's club.

_New umbrella boy. She wanted a job done…what else? Big things are happening. Gordon. _He scribbled in his notebook. It was only slightly suspicious how often Harvey Bullock had been making visits to Mooney's place lately. Bullock wasn't the kind of guy to go above and beyond the call of duty and he was often slacking. Nygma trusted Gordon though. He put out an honest and hardworking vibe, but this city changes people. It kills the spirit and any hope for change. _Maybe Gordon is already getting mixed up with a bad crowd…_ he thought.

He dropped his pen and ran his fingers through his hair. Though he had only been at the GCPD for a little over a year and he had already seen enough people start out hopeful, only to become corrupt. He could feel it weighing him down too at times. He wanted to do the best he could at solving crimes and getting justice but he was tired of being so unappreciated. He knew that all great minds were misunderstood and probably seemed crazy at times, but it was frustrating.

_Hm. I wonder if that man felt unappreciated while working for Fish. He was just an umbrella boy, but he could have been smarter than he seemed and maybe he was found out, _He thought as he turned out the light and retired to his room.

* * *

**A/N**

**Hey everyone!**

**I really enjoy writing this story and I'm excited to see where I can go with this. I just hope it'll all go together smoothly.**

**Hope you are having a great week and did something fun! It was my 21st birthday on Easter Sunday so I went out and had a great time with family. My good friend, Moo, got me a bunch of fun gifts including a laser kitten shot glass and T-shirt. I love her. I didn't get too crazy because of school and work the next day, but I am going gambling with her next Friday. It'd be great if you could all send good vibes that I won't come home completely penniless! I probably will though because I can't even manage to be wise with arcade tokens and credits.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Picole**


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